[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Once Angel was asleep again, curled up trustingly on his shoulder, Blake lay
there, holding her close to his side, thinking.
He had made love to many women in his lifetime, but he had never
experienced what he had felt that night. It scared the hell out of him. What
was it about Angel that affected him so?
They had known each other since she was born, yet they didn't know each
other at all. All his preconceived ideas about her had to be readjusted. He
had accepted her willingness to marry him and have his child Without
question. Until now.
Blake wanted to understand her. For the first time in his life he wanted to get
close to another person. And he didn't know how. And what if, once he got
close to her, she hurt him? Could he live with that?
He wasn't at all sure. He didn't want to need her in his life if she were going
to leave him after a year or two. He needed to remember that he had offered
that option to her. He had honestly thought he could make a logical,
objective decision to fulfill the stipulation without becoming emotionally
involved. He was a fool.
Blake was ready to acknowledge that he was definitely emotionally
involved with Angel.
When Angel woke up the next morning she could hear the shower running.
She smiled and stretched, wincing a little at the unexpected soreness. Blake
had been wonderful to her the night before tender and caring, gentle and so
very loving. She found that very reassuring.
She heard the water stop and waited expectantly for him to appear. She
didn't have long to wait. He came into the room clad only in a well-worn pair
of jeans. Barefooted and bare chested, with his hair tousled, Blake looked
marvelous to Angel.
"Good morning," they said in Unison, then laughed.
"Are you ready for breakfast?" he asked, his gaze taking in the slight flush
on her cheeks.
"Give me fifteen minutes and I will be." She glanced around the room.
"Would you hand me my robe, please?"
He found her modesty endearing and refused to tease her about it. As a
matter of fact, he found everything about Angel enchanting. He gave her the
robe and leaned down and kissed her soundly. "Are you ready to start your
sight-seeing of the coast, Mrs. Carlyle?"
Never had Angel seen him so lighthearted. The lines were gone from his
forehead and around his eyes. He looked happy and rested. She returned his
smile.
"Anytime you are, Mr. Carlyle."
"We'll leave right after breakfast."
The trip down the coastline of southern California seemed to have a magical
quality about it. Had the weather ever been so perfect? Everyone they met
was kind, everywhere they went they found happiness. Or was it possible
that they provided their own?
They took long walks on several beaches, spent hours wandering through
the seaside resorts, finding souvenirs and enjoying the sun. With Angel's
delicate coloring she had to use a heavy sunscreen in order not« to burn, and
Blake professed an acute interest in making sure she was carefully covered
with the sun- screening lotion.
One day they visited Solvang, an authentic-looking Danish village,
complete with windmills, in the Santa Ynez Valley north of Santa Barbara.
Angel was entranced with the small shops and the calorie-laden pastries.
Blake appeared content to wander along beside her, holding her hand and
enjoying her ever- changing expressions.
While eating at one of the sidewalk cafes Angel nodded to a family walking
past. "Did you notice the little girl in Danish costume?"
"She's very pleased with herself, isn't she?"
"Oh, yes!" Angel laughed delightedly. "Wasn't she a doll? I bet she isn't
much past two. What do you think?"
"I have no idea," Blake admitted.
"Neither do I."
Blake leaned forward, his forearm brushing against hers. "Well, if you
hadn't given your litter away, you would have had plenty of practical
knowledge by now." His eyes danced with mischief.
Angel had the grace to blush and she refused to meet his gaze.
Blake began to laugh. "A litter. I couldn't believe what I was hearing!"
""Well," Angel explained with a trace of defensiveness, "you made me
angry."
"I realize that. I might have believed you if you hadn't used the word 'litter.'"
He shook his head, chuckling.
Angel watched him with a slight pang somewhere in the region of her heart.
Relaxed and smiling as he was,
Blake looked devastating. She wondered how long she had been in love with
him. It had happened imperceptibly over the past few months. What would
life be like if Blake were to fall in love with her and their marriage became
more than a fulfillment of their fathers' wishes?
She could only hope that someday she might find out.
Another day Angel spent painting while Blake relaxed, watched and later
napped. The serene countryside had caught her imagination, and the spirited
horses in a nearby pasture enticed her to pause and attempt to capture them
on canvas.
When they checked into a large hotel overlooking the ocean that night,
Blake brought up her art. "You're really very good, aren't you? Your
painting has such a vibrancy to it. I had no idea you were so talented."
Angel had been brushing her hair and she stopped and turned away from the
mirror. Blake sat on a sofa in front of the large window overlooking the view
of the ocean. He had turned and was leaning his chin on his forearm, which
rested on the back of the sofa.
"You really mean that, don't you?"
"Yes, I really do. I'm ashamed to admit that I was surprised. Your ability to
catch the playfulness and freedom of the horses and their colts today amazed
me. Have you sold any of your work?"
"Some," she admitted cautiously.
"I'm sure it will sell very well in this area." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]